“Or it could have been a skinwalker that shifted into a werewolf. I was given evidence.” She was scowling at him too, and she knew he would protect his own kind. But would he go that far to cover up the murders of two innocent people just to stop her from going after them? Quentin was someone she’d considered a friend, so if he did end up doing it, she would be hurt. Not as hurt as she would be if she let her mother and brother’s murderer to go free. “I’m sorry I shot you. I didn’t know you were one of them. But I know a skinwalker did it.”
Blair moved behind the counter and bent down in front of one of the locked doors, pulling the key from the tiny keychain she had hooked to one of her belt loops. Inside was a large rectangular metal tin filled with newspaper articles, words and phrases encircled to emphasize certain details in the local reports, and grainy photos – CCTV captures of what looked like a skinwalker shedding its werewolf skin – and she slid it over to Quentin. “They saw that seconds after Mom and Devan were killed,” she continued, her voice strained. She had no idea that her dad had made a deal with a pack of skinwalkers, and she felt a tiny stab of betrayal that she hadn’t been told about it, but now was not the time for personal petty grievances. “Still think it’s a werewolf?”
She was sounding a little too hostile, far more hostile than she had been the last time they talked. But she was hurt and grieving, and she was murderously angry. Not to the point where she thought the sin of one meant the sin of all, otherwise she would have finished him off right then and there before going out and killing every skinwalker on sight. There was another gun hidden beneath the counter that she could have grabbed and used, but she didn’t even think of reaching for it. “And don’t you dare blame Dad for this; he didn’t tell me! He doesn’t….he doesn’t even know!” And she reached up and poked him on the chest, still frowning up at him.
“ like i said. normally, i’d say it was a werewolf that killed them, but this situation is weird. “ a sigh leaves his lips and then quentin shakes his head at blair while he looks down at the images that she had shown him. his hand comes onto the slips of paper sliding them back towards her. “ except it couldn’t have been werewolves. your dad and his hunter buddies had run off all of the local packs and pushed them out of the local area. they were running scared, “ quentin explains calmly as he looks into her eyes. he could sense the hostility in her voice and quentin tries his best to remain calm.
“ but it couldn’t have been a skinwalker either. there were no skinwalker clans here when your mom was murdered. because they were terrified of the wolves. the only reason i was only to start a clan here is because of your father pushing out the wolves. not to mention, skinwalkers always strike in a pack. almost never alone. “ quentin bites as he looks into her eyes, trying to convince her that she was after the wrong magical creatures. as much as he would have liked to pin the murder on a werewolf, quentin knows better. he knows the truth.
when she pokes him in the chest and makes a demand of him, he almost snarls at blair, but he resists. she’s supposed to be his friend. she’s the daughter of an ally. he doesn’t want to make an enemy out of her. “ i’m not blaming your dad. i’m not even blaming you. if i was, i would have gutted you when i walked in. but i know who’s really to blame. when i looked at the autopsies of your family, i noticed that the claw marks that were left behind were jagged. werewolves leave linear slashes. which makes me think what killed your mom and your brother is a wendigo. “
